


unlikely events

by bilgegungoren00



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amanda is Connor's owner, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank hates androids (at first), Hank is Connor's neighbor, Hank takes care of Connor, Hurt/Comfort, Neighbors, father-son bonding, tw: physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilgegungoren00/pseuds/bilgegungoren00
Summary: Hank Anderson hates androids. It isn’t a secret either. Ask any of his friends from the Detroit Police Department, and they will tell you the same. He hates being around them, with all their fake perfection and pretentiousness. They are designed similar to humans to make it easier for them to integrate into the society, but it only makes Hank notice how different they are. They are like Barbie dolls—beautiful, but fake.The android that lives across him is no exception.Or, in which Connor is Hank's neighbor and he slowly changes the lieutenant's feelings about androids.TW: physical abuse, mature language





	1. the android that lives across the street

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello y'all!
> 
> so, just FYI, my initial plan was for this to be a one-shot, but after i started writing this ideas kept popping in my head, i kept adding small tidbits to it and it turned out to be waaaay to long than i'm comfortable with posting at once. (it's like 8000 words right now and it's not even done yet.) so instead of doing that, i decided to split it up. good news, that means i have three chapters of it written and i'll be able to post really quickly and get the last chapter done in the meantime. bad news...well, i guess you'll have to wait for the whole story...oops.
> 
> but anyway, i hope you like this! and please let me know what you think down in the comments - seriously, no matter how bad a day i'm having they always manage to cheer me up :) 
> 
> p.s. this is slightly AU, meaning that Hank and Connor's story are different from the game, but other than that you can assume everything with Markus and the revolution is pretty much the same, although the story starts way before the revolution. just thought you should know :)

Hank Anderson hates androids. It isn’t a secret either. Ask any of his friends from the Detroit Police Department, and they will tell you the same. He hates being around them, with all their fake perfection and pretentiousness. They are designed similar to humans to make it easier for them to integrate into the society, but it only makes Hank notice how _different_ they are. They are like Barbie dolls—beautiful, but fake.

The android that lives across him is no exception.

As far as Hank knows, its name is Connor, and its owner Amanda is apparently working for Cyberlife—and that is immediately more than Hank wants to know about them. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with them at all. It brings back bad memories, and frankly, he will be all too happy if he doesn’t see another android ever again. He is all too happy staying at home and drowning himself in whiskey.

But of course, life has a way of messing with him, and of course, he has to end up living across the most fucking social android of all time. And somehow, Hank manages to always bump into the fucking plastic prick, no matter what time he leaves the house. It is eight thirty and he’s going to work? Connor is out there, tending to the garden, and it offers him a cheerful “Good morning, Lieutenant.” He’s taking Sumo out for a walk at night? Connor is taking out the trash, and it comments on how cute Sumo is. (“I like dogs,” it even says one time, as if it is fucking capable of such feelings. Sumo, of course, always wags his tail at the android, which makes everything a whole lot worse.) He’s back from a grocery shopping and is struggling with the bags? Connor appears out of thin air right next to him, offering help.

The worst thing is that it _doesn’t get the hint_ that Hank doesn’t want it around. He tries ignoring it—nope. He tries glaring at it—nope. He even tells him explicitly that he doesn’t want him around once or twice, but Connor is somehow always there. He thinks about going to Amanda and telling her to get a fucking leash for her android or something, but he hates Cyberlife even more than he hates androids.

So he stays away and stays quiet, hoping Connor will give up trying to build a fucking friendship with him or something and just move along. Honestly, he couldn’t care less if Connor was hit by a car or something. (He sometimes thinks about doing it himself.)

If that was all, Hank would probably be able to deal with it. He would be fucking annoyed like hell, but he would deal with it. But there is another layer that Hank refuses to even acknowledge. Because Connor’s awkward socialization attempts or goofy smiles or weird voice aren’t all that he notices about it. He’s always been a detective, and thus, he tends to notice the little things as well, things that others are trying to hide. He notices Connor limp every now and then as if it had an unfortunate accident and hurt its leg. He notices the faint stains of blue it has on his collar and cuffs—they aren’t too obvious, but they are still there. He notices the tears and wrinkles in its clothes as if it got involved in some nasty back alley fight club. And he notices the rare lost look it has in his eyes sometimes, reminding Hank too much of a kid who doesn’t have a direction. He’s seen the same look in young abuse victims as well—especially those who have been made to believe they deserve the abuse they were subjected to.

If Hank didn’t know better, he would’ve said that Amanda was beating Connor up. And hell, maybe that is the case. All the signs point to that. But why does he care about it? Connor is an android, and androids don’t feel anything. They don’t feel fear, they don’t feel sadness, and they especially don’t feel _love._ They are incapable of it. So really, Amanda hurting Connor is no different than someone throwing their computer into a wall, right? It doesn’t matter how hurt or broken Connor looks, it’s just its fucking programming faking emotions, probably. Nothing more.

(And it especially doesn’t matter that it reminds Hank of Cole whenever it looks like that. Hell, they don’t even look alike. It’s probably Hank’s grief acting up and nothing more.)

So Hank just decides that the best thing to do is just to ignore Connor and Amanda and go on with his life. One android already ruined his life. He doesn’t want another doing the same.

* * *

It is late at night, and just as always Hank is sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of whiskey resting in one hand, and his gun resting in the other. There is only one bullet in it, as always. He isn’t strong enough to shoot himself outright, so he leaves it to chance. Russian roulette.

He’s played many rounds of it up till now, and he’s still alive. He doesn’t know the odds of that happening, but apparently someone out there is looking out for him. What a waste of a fucking life.

He looks at the gun in his hand, and then the whiskey bottle. He hasn’t even started drinking yet, and he’s thinking about suicide. He is too sober for this shit. He pops the bottle open and brings it to his lips—

He is interrupted by a loud ring coming from his front door. _Fuck._ He immediately decides to ignore whoever it is. He doesn’t even care why they are there. He has too much shit going on to deal with someone else.

But the ringing persists, and Hank eventually has to give in to it. He drops the whiskey bottle and the gun on the table and strings a number of curses together as he moves to the door. He doesn’t check through the peephole before throwing it open.

In hindsight, he should’ve, because if he’d seen who was at the door, he would’ve never opened it. But it’s too late, and now he’s staring at a fucking android giving him puppy-dog eyes. It’s Connor.

He moves to close the door before even saying anything. Again, he’s too sober for this. He can’t deal with an android right now, not even Connor. (And no, that doesn’t mean he’s sympathizing with the _thing_ at all. It’s just that he’s familiar with it.) But Connor is faster than him, the bastard, and it stops the door before Hank can shut it completely. “Lieutenant, please,” it says in a much quieter voice than usual. It is filled with static, as if its audio mechanism or what-the-fuck-ever isn’t working right. “I need your help.”

_Like I care,_ Hank thinks, but when he realizes that there’s no way he’s shutting Connor out, he opens the door. It is only then he notices how Connor looks. The android…is a mess. Its hair sticks up in every direction, its face is stained with blue blood and a part of it has peeled off, exposing the blue wires underneath. Its shirt is torn in the front and there is a huge gash on its chest, as if someone cut it with a knife. In fact, Hank assumes that’s exactly what happened.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks with a frown before he can help himself. Connor avoids his gaze and stays quiet, but that is enough of an answer for Hank. He looks up at the house across. He is pretty sure this is Amanda’s work.

Not that he cares. Because he doesn’t.

“I wanted to ask if you had blue blood in your house. I’ve lost too much of it, and I have to replace it to avoid shutdown.” Connor says, dodging the question by changing the topic. Hank narrows his eyes and squashes the small bit of sympathy that has started the blossom in his chest.

“Yeah, because I’m such an android enthusiast,” he jokes sarcastically, but Connor just looks confused. He shakes his head. “No, of course I don’t have fucking blue blood. Isn’t your owner like a damn Cyberlife scientist or some shit? I’d imagine she’d have it.” Connor shifts uncomfortably with the words and straightens up its cuffs, even though it does absolutely nothing to fix the mess. It is such a human gesture that if it wasn’t for the blue blood all over Connor’s chest or the LED in its temple, Hank would’ve mistaken it for a human.

He quickly pushes that thought away and focuses on Connor’s answer. “I don’t have access to the blue blood.” Hank frowns. _Well, that’s fucking stupid,_ he thinks, but he feels like there’s more to it than just that. If Connor’s previous injuries are any indication, Amanda doesn’t particularly care about the android—not that she has to, Hank tries to convince himself—and it wouldn’t come as much of a surprise if Amanda actually locked the shit up so that Connor couldn’t get it. “I don’t think Amanda noticed I need it…urgently.” He shakes his head and steps back, and Hank can’t help feeling a stab of pain for the bo—for the thing. It may be an android, but damn if it doesn’t look like an innocent, lost kid right now.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Lieutenant,” Connor says, preparing to leave. “Have a good night.” The android turns back and walks down his porch, and Hank suddenly feels horrible that he can’t do more. He knows he shouldn’t care, he knows Connor is just a _fucking machine,_ but shit he cares. He’s always cared too much, damn it. And fucking androids, they look too human. And Connor takes that to a whole another level. Other androids, you can mostly see that they are faking their feelings. But with Connor, it seems all too realistic, and Hank can’t help thinking about the kid’s eyes, filled with something he can only describe as fear. As if he— _it_ —is afraid of shutting down.

Fear of death. Hank wants to laugh. But instead, he does something completely impulsive. “Hey, Connor!” He stops the kid as he reaches behind to grab his keys from the counter. It is still summer, so he thinks he won’t need his coat. He moves outside and closes the door behind himself. “You think you can find a Cyberlife store nearby that we can get some blue blood from? I can drive you there.” Connor perks up with hope, and _shit_ Hank hates it. He hates that he can’t stop thinking about Connor as just a fucking android.

“Would you really—“ Hank stops him halfway.

“Yeah, yeah, now get in the car before I change my mind.” He unlocks the door for Connor and hopes that he can wash off the blue blood later. Connor offers him a small, thankful smile before he takes his place. _Fucking androids,_ Hank thinks. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, helping an android, but it’s too late to back out. Besides, it’s a one-time thing. He can deal with a one-time thing.

As he starts the car, he can feel Connor’s eyes on him. He glances at the android. “Is there something on my face?” he asks, and Connor, taking the question seriously—Cyberlife apparently didn’t program sarcasm into him—shakes his head.

“Thank you,” he just says, and it isn’t one of those fake thank-you’s that you throw around to Starbucks baristas or store clerks. It is a real one, a genuine one, fueled with true gratitude. Hank hasn’t had someone feel grateful for him in a long time.

It feels…good. And he hates it.

(And when they’re at the Cyberlife store, unbeknownst to Connor he grabs a couple extra pouches of blue blood and some repair tools, just in case. He really doesn’t want another trip to the store in the middle of the night; he doesn’t particularly care about Connor’s well-being. At least that’s what he tells himself. Yet even he can notice how bullshit of an excuse that is.)


	2. android or not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> so, i just wanted to let you know that i'll be traveling for the next two weeks. i'm actually going to US, and I don't know if I'll be able to have wi-fi or not. hopefully i can find a Starbucks to sit and write but you can never know. i'll keep writing as much as i can, and i will try to post whenever i find wi-fi, but i'm just letting you know that i might not be able to so you don't think i just disappeared :)
> 
> anyway, hope you like this chapter! i wanted to post it before i leave because i didn't want to make you wait longer than i need to :)

So… It doesn’t end up being just a one-time thing. And Hank has no one to blame but himself. Sure, Connor does show up at his door whenever he is severely injured—as in “injured beyond the capabilities of his self-healing program”, in Connor’s words—but Hank is the one that keeps letting him in and fixing him up.

At first, it is just small things, like the blue blood thing. (As it turns out, the knife wound from the first time wasn’t an isolated incidence and Amanda had literally stabbed Connor multiple times before. It just was one of the more severe of the wounds.) Connor comes to his door, and Hank just hands him the blue blood without asking anything and lets the android stay for a while until he is completely healed. Through this he learns a bit more about the android, even though Connor never explicitly reveals that his wounds are Amanda’s doing.

Hank doesn’t force the truth out of him. He is obviously severely traumatized—if that’s even possible for an android—and Hank knows pushing him won’t do much good.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he has started to care about Connor and fucking hell he can’t do anything about it now. He can’t change it or fix it. He just has a soft spot for abuse victims, after working in the police force for years and seeing numerous survivors. Slowly, the blue blood helps turn into something more. Hank starts reading up on androids online and learns how they’re programmed, learns their mechanisms and different parts, and searches for the best ways to fix several wounds. He spends his evenings in front of his tablet instead of by the table with a whiskey in his hands. He starts drinking less as well. He’s not completely sober, and he does open up a bottle every now and then, but even then he starts feeling guilty. He doesn’t want to be drunk if Connor shows up with a wound, especially as the android started to trust Hank for fixing him up by now.

And honestly, Hank starts to get used to having Connor in his house as well. The place doesn’t feel too empty when the android is around. He’s missed having someone to talk to. He’ll never admit that to Connor, of course, but he appreciates having him around. It hurts to see the kid get hurt, of course, but it also means they’ll be spending some time together, and Hank always appreciates those moments. He loves fixing up the android. It gives him something to do. It gives him purpose.

Something he’s been missing for such a long time.

He also hates Amanda, and he hates more that he can’t do anything about Connor’s situation. Connor is technically Amanda’s property, and the woman can do anything ahe pleases with him. Hank has read almost every law concerning androids, and there’s nothing he can do to free Connor from Amanda. It’s fucking unfair, but the world is unfair, really. Humans don’t even feel sympathy for their own kind just because of the color of their skin or their sexuality and gender; it is no surprise that they don’t feel sympathy for androids either.

So he tries to help Connor any way he can, but there’s so much he can do. Even if he _hears_ that something is going on in Amanda’s house—and he knows the crashes and yelling is about Connor because the android comes to him almost immediately afterwards—he can’t just go up there and _demand_ the woman to stop. He has no legal right, so going there guns blazing isn’t really an option, even though Hank really, really, _really_ wants to do it.

Today is no different. It is his day off from work, and he has been planning to just stay at home and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist. It is late September now, so the weather is a bit colder, but still he keeps his window open for some fresh air. Besides, Sumo likes the light breeze and is now sitting in front of the window, his tongue out. Hank smiles at the dog. The bastard, always managing to put a smile on his face.

He turns on the TV and is moving through the channels haphazardly when he hears a crash coming from outside. His head turns to the window…and he knows what’s going on.

He feels sick to his stomach.

His hand tightens on the remote controller and he looks at the drawer. His gun is tucked in it safely, and a part of him wants to get it out. He wants to shoot something—no, he wants to shoot _Amanda,_ specifically. He knows it’s murder, but fuck it, the woman has been abusing Connor for weeks now. It is not _fair_. If Connor was human, he would’ve been able to stop it immediately, but just because he’s an android…

Another crash comes, coupled with a shattering noise, and Hank flinches. He hears Sumo whimper slightly. The dog is scratching at the door, as if he too is aware of what’s going on and wants to help Connor. It seems like Hank isn’t the only one that is getting used to the android. (Well, considering how much attention Connor gives Sumo whenever he is around, it is no surprise really.)

_Fuck it,_ Hank thinks as he turns off the TV and stands up. He grabs his coat and makes his way to Amanda’s house. He may not be able to go there with a gun, but that doesn’t mean he can’t interrupt. There are no laws against asking a favor from your neighbors, right?

The closer he gets to the door, the more he can hear the voices coming from the house. He hears that Amanda is yelling—even though he can’t make out exactly what she says. Connor is…eerily silent. Hank swallows his fear and knocks on the door, tucking his hands into his pockets to pretend like he doesn’t know what is going on in the house at all.

Silence falls over the house, and then there are footsteps before the door is pulled open. It is Amanda, with her ever-present frown and narrowed eyes. Her hair is pulled into a tight bun and she is wearing a white blouse with a pencil skirt. _Geez, the woman can’t even relax for his day off,_ Hank thinks, but still puts a fake smile on his face.

“Hey, hello. I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?” he asks as sweetly as possible, trying to look inside the house over Amanda’s shoulder. He can’t see Connor.

He schools his features to hide his nausea.

“No,” Amanda says, even though her voice says otherwise. Hank promptly ignores that.

“Great! I was just wondering… I mean, I saw that you have an android, and I’m doing some construction work at home, and it turned out to be a bit too heavy for my old body, y’know? Would it be okay if I borrowed hi—I mean, if I borrowed it for a couple of hours? Of course, if it isn’t an inconvenience.”

Amanda looks like she wants to say no _so badly,_ but apparently coming up with no good excuse to keep Connor there, she turns to the house. She calls for Connor, and the android comes out of the kitchen. There is no sign on him that Amanda has just beaten him up, except maybe his messed up clothes. He looks up at Hank, and confusion fills his eyes. “Our neighbor—“ Amanda starts before turning to Hank.

“Hank,” Hank provides with a smile. Goddamn, it has been a long time since he’s last been this nice to someone. At least someone whom he just wants to shoot in the head…multiple times.

“Hank needs your help with some construction at his house. Don’t disappoint him, and be quick with it.” Amanda’s voice is cold as she orders Connor around, and it takes all of Hank’s willpower to not say something about it. Connor looks even more confused—he knows Hank doesn’t have any construction work—but he just nods, wanting to know what this is about.

“Send it back as soon as you’re done,” Amanda tells Hank, pushes Connor out the door and slams it on their faces. Fuck, the woman is horrible. Even worse than Hank imagined. Not that it’s much of a surprise.

Neither Hank nor Connor say anything as they make their way back to Hank’s house. The man can almost _hear_ the wheels turning in Connor’s head—hey, maybe there are wheels in his head, who knows—as he tries to figure out what’s going on. But Hank doesn’t risk anything until they’re safely tucked in his house, away from Amanda’s eyes. He quickly closes the curtains as Connor pets Sumo.

“You okay?” he asks Connor as he turns to him. Connor fidgets uncomfortably and pulls down his sleeve, and Hank wonders whether he’s trying to hide a wound.

“Yes, lieutenant. What do you need my help with?” he asks. His voice is cold, just like an android’s, but Hank spots something behind it. Connor wasn’t being distant because he was an android, he was doing it because he was scared. Scared of what the fuck Amanda did to him, probably.

Hank promises that he’ll find a way to get Connor out of there, right then and there.

He shrugs. “I don’t actually need your help. I just wanted to get you outta there for a couple of hours.” _Away from that fucking woman._

Connor blinks. “I don’t understand,” he says. Hank curses under his breath. Damn, Connor can be just like a little kid sometimes. His protective instincts flare up.

“Do you think I’m too stupid to not figure out the shit you’re going through in that house?” he asks Connor. Connor’s skin goes pale, if that’s even fucking possible. He freezes for a second before shaking his head.

“Nothing is…is happening in my house,” he tries to say, but his voice cracks and he stutters, and Hank is pretty sure it is not just his audio processor acting up. (One time, Amanda damaged it and when Connor came to his house, he was barely intelligible as he had to talk through static and he was constantly stuttering.)

“Oh, yeah?” Hank asks. He suddenly wants a drink—he’s too sober for this conversation—but he knows it will do neither of them any good. He steps towards Connor and pulls up his sleeve before he can do anything. And there it is, his arm dented inside as if it was hit by a baseball bat or something. _Ugh._ “Then I guess you got this by just falling down the stairs, right? And all the other wounds are just accidents? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, I don’t think androids are that clumsy.” Hank really didn’t mean to snap at Connor, but he is too angry. He stops when he realizes that Connor has cowered back to the corner of the living room, his arms around himself, shaking like a leaf.

Shit. He may have gone too far.

“Amanda is a good owner,” Connor whispers, yet even he sounds unsure, as if he’s reading some scripted lines that he doesn’t really believe in. “And I’m just a machine. I don’t feel.” Hank’s face softens. The kid is close to breaking down, he can see, and he really doesn’t want that to happen.

“I think even you know that’s not true,” he says quietly. He thinks he spots tears in Connor’s eyes, but it may just be his imagination. He doesn’t even know if androids can cry.

Connor shakes his head. “Amanda can’t know that I told you.” Suddenly he steps forward and grasps Hank’s hand. “Please don’t tell her. They’ll—They’ll kill me—disassemble me to look for faults—I don’t want to—“

“Shit, Connor, do I really look like a snitch?” Hank puts a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, even as his heart is breaking for him. _Fucking android, worming his way into me._ “I ain’t telling that bitch anything, okay? This can be our little secret.” Connor looks suspicious at first, but then he gulps and nods. Really, what choice does he have? “Now should we take a look at those wounds?” Connor nods again, and they finally move to the couch.

A few minutes pass in silence as Hank reconnects the wires in Connor’s wounds and clears out the stray pieces. The wound isn’t bad—the android’s self-healing program can certainly handle it in a couple of hours, but this will accelerate the process. Hank can feel Connor watching him, yet he doesn’t comment on it.

It is the android that breaks the silence at last. “Lieutenant?” he mumbles. Hank stops for a second and looks up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I deserve to be beaten just because I’m an android and can’t feel pain?” Hank frowns at the question. Instinctually, he wants to say no—but then he stops. He’s never put it much thought, but before Connor he wouldn’t have even batted an eye if he saw an android getting punched in the face or anything. He’d think they were just machines, and sure, punching your android may not be the best fucking option out there but if they don’t feel… What is so wrong with it? It isn’t like they’d be able to respond like humans—it isn’t like they feel pain, right?

And then he looks at Connor, and he has his answer. Connor may not be able to feel physical pain, but he is obviously affected by the beatings. Hell, his lips are quivering and his eyes are wet, and he flinches at Hank’s even lightest touch. And it is wrong to put anyone through that, machine or not.

“Nobody deserves that, Connor,” he says, turning his eyes to the wound just because he feels too damn emotional and he doesn’t want the android to see that. “Doesn’t matter if you’re an android or not.” Connor doesn’t say anything to that, but it’s easy to see the gratitude in his eyes. Hank offers him a small smile. “And by the way, call me Hank. I’ve patched you up enough times by now for us to be on a first-name basis.”

Now it’s Connor’s turn to smile. It’s a small one, and it’s obvious it doesn’t come naturally to Connor, but it still fills Hank’s heart with warmth. “Thank you…Hank.” He pulls down his sleeve, yet he doesn’t attempt to stand up, obviously planning to stay for a while.

And who is Hank to kick him out of his house?


	3. biocomponents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> i am so so sorry this took me so long to post. i had no idea university visits would be this tiring - seriously, i've been falling asleep as soon as i got into my hotel for the last three days. my heart goes out to anyone who's applying this year and is going through the same hell as i am lol.
> 
> anyway, to make up with that i'm posting a little bit longer chapter :) i'll try to get the next chapter done ASAP, but as i said things are hectic here, so...we'll see. but don't worry, i haven't forgotten you, and i'm much too into DBH universe to ever stop writing :)
> 
> hope you like this chapter! i have to warn you, though...you might need tissues for this one...

Everyone is shocked by that android’s speech on TV. Shocked and panicked, as if someone just dropped a bomb into their lives and turned it upside down. Really, it is just all the dystopian sci-fi movies of late 20th and early 21st century coming true. Intelligent AI-like machines rising up against their creators—that must be the most cliché movie plot ever.

Though that isn’t exactly why Hank isn’t surprised. He’s known Connor for more than two months now, and he’s already known that the boy was capable of feelings. He probably became a deviant before deviancy even started to spread. Honestly, Hank is just happy that androids are rising up now—even though he’s careful not to say that out-loud anywhere, as not everyone—okay, not even one person—shares his views. He hopes that maybe, just maybe this may gain them some rights—rights that can get Connor out of Amanda’s house. That’s all Hank wants.

Amanda’s abuse has gotten progressively worse in the last couple of weeks. At first, Connor needed just blue blood replacements and small repairs that his body could handle. The knife wound—the first night he showed up at Hank’s door—was an outlier.

Well, it isn’t an outlier now. Connor has been going through a near-death experience almost every day, ending up in front of Hank’s door all bloody and mangled. His hand was cut so badly one time that it took them hours to put it back.

It is horrible, to say the least. What is worse is that _Connor doesn’t fight back._ He refuses to hurt Amanda, even though the woman has hurt him terribly, multiple times. He claims he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, and shit Hank can’t help thinking the boy is too good for this world. It’ll eat him up and spit him out—if he survives in Amanda’s hands, that is. Yet Connor also has something Hank dubbed as his “puppy-dog eyes”, and when he whips them out you can’t really argue with him. Whenever the Amanda subject is opened in Hank’s house, that’s exactly what Connor does.

Hank tries to help Connor as much as he can. He gets him out of Amanda’s house more and more frequently, and has even decided to renovate his garage so the construction work isn’t a total lie. (Also, the garage needed a desperate renovation.) He tries to tell him it’s okay to fight back—it’s what a human would do, at the very least—even though Connor doesn’t really listen to that. After the android’s speech, he even gets Connor to listen to it and asks him what he thinks about it, rather excitedly. Maybe if Connor knows he isn’t alone in having feelings, he will be more willing to fight for them.

He is disappointed when the android just looks away, fear evident in his eyes, and says that the “android revolution” will never work. Humans will never give androids their rights—they are too scared for that. His pessimism hits Hank hard, especially since he is usually the pessimistic one.

But he isn’t giving up. Baby steps, he thinks. He’ll make sure Connor has the life he deserves by the end of this whole thing.

However, his baby-steps plan quickly falls apart in a matter of minutes. It’s one of those late nights at the DPD—with this android uprising going on, everyone is working their asses off. Hank comes back home right after sunset, a package of takeout food and a cup of coffee in his hand. He’s planning on throwing himself on the couch and spending the rest of the day watching TV.

His plan is thrown out the window when he hears a crash coming from the neighborhood. Specifically, Amanda’s house. Hank flinches. Ugh, he fucking _hates_ that woman. He stops next to his car, briefly considering whether he can find a viable excuse to get Connor out of there at this time of the night, when he hears the door open. But it’s not Amanda that appears behind it. It’s Connor—desperately and frantically trying to get away.

Hank sees him just for one second before Amanda pulls him back, yet that is all he needs. Connor looks…horrible, worse than he has ever looked before. The left side of his face is completely shattered, revealing the blue veins and wires underneath. There’s blood all over his ripped clothes, and Hank also doesn’t miss the wounds on his chest. It’s as if Amanda smashed him with a baseball bat over and over again, mercilessly.

He knows at that moment that this isn’t just a mere beating. Hank has heard about people destroying their androids as a result of the android revolution, not wanting their “machines” to hurt them. Amanda must be trying to destroy Connor as well.

Hank leaves the coffee and food on top of the car without hesitation, grabs his gun and rushes to the door. He doesn’t even hesitate, he doesn’t think about the consequences. He needs to get Connor out of there.

He just hopes he isn’t too late.

He kicks open the door—thank fuck Connor managed to unlock it—and…

The sight in front of his eyes _sickens_ him. There’s blue blood staining every surface of the house. The drawers are knocked over, the TV is broken, there are pieces of glass and metal everywhere. The place looks like a warzone. But the worst of it is Connor, curled up on one corner, his hands lifted to protect himself against the bat in Amanda’s hand—very uselessly, it seems. Connor doesn’t try to fight back, even though he seems one or two hit away from shutting down, and there isn’t an ounce of pity in Amanda’s eyes. She doesn’t even hear Hank come in, lifting the bat once again—

A gunshot echoes in the house, and Amanda collapses onto the floor with a wound in his head. A clean-shot that shows Hank didn’t hesitate. She was hurting Connor. She deserved it.

He doesn’t feel sorry about it. All he feels is anger, which fades the moment he turns to Connor. The poor guy is still in the corner, his arms covering his face. Fuck, just how much has he been hurt? It seems like every part of his body is covered with wounds, and it is a miracle that he is still alive. Hank tucks the gun in his belt and steps forward, kneeling in front of Connor.

That’s when he hears it. Connor is sobbing. His body is shaking like a leaf, and he doesn’t even look up at Hank. He’s just sobbing, as if he’s given up, as if he doesn’t even think he can survive. Hank’s heart shatters. _Shit._

“Connor?” he whispers as he steps forward, being careful not to touch him. He doesn’t know whether it will hurt Connor or not, but he doesn’t want to risk it. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Hank. I’m here.” He hears Connor try to say something, but he can’t understand it. “What?”

“Please…I don’t wanna die,” the boy chokes out in between his sobs, and he curls into himself even more. “I can’t, please…”

“Connor, I…” Hank’s throat is knotted and he can’t find the right words. He’s never been good at comfort, and this reminds him so much of three years ago, when another son bled out in his arms. Yes, he sees Connor as his son at this point, as a little boy who is in desperate need of love. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Shit, I came here to get you out of here.” He extends his hand to the boy as Connor lifts his head. His eyes are still filled with tears and pain. “You can trust me, son.” For a moment, it looks like Connor will accept his hand, but instead he pulls back. He shakes his head.

“But I’m—I’m a deviant. It isn’t—right. I should be disassembled and—“

“Fuck that,” Hank cuts his words. He risks putting his hand on Connor’s knee. “I’m not fucking turning you in for _feeling,_ Connor. I’m not letting anyone destroy you. You’re…” Shit, he really wished he was better at this whole emotions thing. “You’re a good kid, Connor. You don’t deserve to die. And…we’ll figure this shit out, okay? Together. I promise.” He offers Connor a small smile, and even though the android looks skeptical at first, suddenly he lurches forward and wraps his arms around the lieutenant. He buries his face to Hank’s shirt and continues sobbing. All Hank can do is try to soothe him by patting him on the back and stroking his hair as he tries to hold back his own tears. He whispers comforting words in his ears until he is sure Connor has calmed down enough.

That’s when Connor pulls back, and the expression in his face tightens Hank’s chest. Something is wrong.

“My biocomponents are damaged,” Connor whispers. Hank’s heart drops. “I’m going to shut down in forty seven minutes.”

* * *

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ That’s all Hank can think as he speeds through narrow roads and back alleys while also trying to keep the car on the road. Traffic in Detroit has never been great, but now with literally _everyone_ trying to leave the city in the wake of the android revolution it is worse than ever. And Hank is running out of time.

He glances at Connor, who’s sitting in the passenger seat, looking like he’s about to pass out. He curses under his breath yet again. The boy is literally _dying,_ and here he is struggling with the fucking traffic jam and alternate roads. He doesn’t know how much time has passed since they left Amanda’s house, and honestly he doesn’t want to.

Right now, he hates Amanda more than ever. They could’ve easily fixed Connor up back at her house, but of-fucking-course the woman had to burn all of the spare biocomponents in the house before going after the android. And since, apparently, Connor is a “prototype” that she was working on for the last couple of weeks, they can’t find his specific parts in just any Cyberlife store. They need to actually go to the damn Cyberlife HQ and break-in, all this before Connor shuts down.

“How much time?” Hank asks Connor, looking at his GPS to see that they’re only a minute or two away from the Cyberlife Tower. The android lifts his head and runs a diagnostic.

“Twenty six minutes.” Hank grits his teeth. _Great._ “Lieutenant, you shouldn’t risk your life for me—“

“Just shut up,” Hank hisses. He’s _not_ losing Connor, period. “Tell me how the fuck we’re gonna get into that fucking tower.” He knows he’s cursing a lot, but who can blame him? He’s stressed out.

“There’s an exit in the back for the distribution of androids. It’s only guarded by androids, and Amanda told me that Cyberlife had to get rid of them after the revolution. It is unknown to most people, so I don’t think they’d waste manpower to guard it. And it opens directly to the warehouse where we can find my spare parts.” Connor, for someone who’s on the brink of dying, sounds eerily calm. Yet it’s easy to see the fear in his eyes. He glances at Hank. “Hank, am I going to die?” he asks.

Hank’s heart clenches, and he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to say no, but that’s just optimism and he knows it. Realistically, he knows the odds aren’t in their favor. He sighs as he makes another turn, and they’re in front of the tower. He doesn’t speak until he stops the car. “I don’t know, kid,” he whispers. Connor…doesn’t even seem surprised.

“My analysis says that there’s a thirty three percent chance we’ll be successful.” Great. Fucking _great._ “But statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.” He smiles at Hank. It isn’t a happy smile, not really, but it still calms Hank’s nerves. He nods at the kid and squeezes his shoulder before he gets out of the car. He’s parked a little bit away from the tower just so that they won’t attract much attention. He turns to Connor’s side and opens the door for him.

All the optimism that has filled him disappears the moment he sees the boy’s face. He looks…horrified. “Hank,” he whispers, looking up. “Hank, I can’t move my legs.”

_Fuck,_ Hank thinks. They really don’t have time for an android paralysis right now. He kneels down in front of Connor. “Like, not at all?”

“I—I can’t feel them. My processor is rerouting power from unnecessary parts to keep me alive.” He looks up, as if the reality has just dawned on him. Hank sees the defeat in his eyes. _No fucking way._ “Hank, you should go. You should leave me here—“

“The fuck I will!”

“It’s too dangerous. If we get caught—“

“I ain’t fucking letting you die, Connor.” Fuck, he feels tears threatening his eyes. But he’s not giving up. He can’t. He already failed one son, he isn’t doing it again. He’s going to save Connor, even if it kills him at the end. “I’m gonna carry you, okay?”

“Hank—“

“Connor, I’m serious.” Connor searches Hank’s eyes, and after seeing that he can’t convince the lieutenant he nods. Hank reaches forward and hauls Connor up, throwing him over his shoulder. The kid is surprisingly light, considering that he’s a machine. But then Hank remembers reading somewhere that the materials used in androids are specifically designed to be light, so that handling them would be easier.

Connor leads Hank through the entrance to Cyberlife, and it turns out that he’s right—there are no guards in sight. They must be deployed to the _real_ entrance, to protect from any attack coming from there. As Connor said, nobody is supposed to know this place except the employees, and they doubt they’ll find any around right now. Android distribution isn’t exactly at the forefront of anyone’s mind.

Connor leads them through a maze of corridors. Hank at first tries to read the signs on the doors, but then he gives up. He’s tired, and he wants to conserve his energy to fixing Connor.

They arrive at their destination shortly after that—a room full of android spare parts. Hank flickers on the light switch and carefully puts Connor down, trying not to damage him more. Concern fills him when he sees the android looking forward blankly. Shit. _Shit._ Are they too late?

“Connor? You okay, son?” Connor nods.

“Yes. My visual processors aren’t working anymore.” Hank’s heart lurches in his chest. Fuck, that means it’s all up to him to find the spare parts for Connor’s model. “Hank—“

“No. Don’t fucking say that.” They can do it. Hank can do it. They didn’t come all the way here just to give up now. “You—You can still run me through what I need to do without seeing, right? You have a manual or some shit built inside you?” Hank’s voice is shaking, and he hates it. Connor nods.

“I will need replacements for the biocomponents first,” he says. Shit, his calm voice is unnerving for Hank, and it worries him that he can hear the static behind it. Connor’s body is slowly shutting itself down, and—

No. No, he’s not watching Connor die. He looks up at the giant room, at the numerous biocomponents lining the shelves, organized according to the part of the body they belong to. Connor makes him a list of the damaged biocomponents—there’s a whole fucking lot of them, just showing how much Amanda has hurt the boy—and Hank hunts them down. Some of them are easy to find—apparently, they’re not unique to Connor’s model. Some of them…are different. They’re very rare that Hank has to hunt down shelf by shelf to get what he needs. He asks Connor how much time they have left occasionally, and there is nine minutes and forty-two seconds when he finally has everything he needs.

He drops on his knees in front of Connor. “I got what you need, Connor. Now what do I do?”

“You need to remove my chest piece.” Hank looks at Connor’s chest. The chest piece is really nothing but a glorified piece of rubble at this point. He takes it off with shaky hands, revealing the insides of Connor’s chest, shining bright blue in the dim light of the room. Everything inside looks broken. Wires are pulled, veins are open, there are dents and hints of thirium everywhere. Hank feels sick. This is… This is horrible.

He pushes away his nausea. “What now?” Connor walks him through the steps. Replace this biocomponent, fix the wires, attach the veins together, replace another biocomponent… Every step takes too long, and just as they’re nearing the end Connor gasps. Hank’s heart skips a beat. Fuck, are they too late? Is he—

“Connor?”

“My audio processors shut down. I can’t hear you.” _Fuck._ This isn’t good. “There’s two minutes until I—“

Hank doesn’t let him finish. “Just hang on, boy. We’re so close.” He grits his teeth and turns to his work. Two minutes. He can do it. Fuck, fuck, if only his hands wouldn’t shake this much.

“Hank,” Connor whispers, and Hank knows what he’s trying to do—he wants to say something if this really is his last few minutes. He shakes his head, knowing Connor can’t see it, but he doesn’t trust his voice. There’s a huge knot in his throat. He wants to stop Connor, but really unless he physically covers Connor’s mouth there’s nothing he can do. And his hands are a bit busy right now. “What happened to your son wasn’t your fault.” Hank freezes for a second and looks up at Connor. _How does he know?_ Yet he doesn’t have the time to question. “I know you blame yourself. I know about your drinking habits. But you shouldn’t blame yourself, Hank. You’re a great man, and Cole knew that, too.”

Hank can’t say anything. He just blinks away his tears and focuses on his work. He doesn’t know how much time Connor has left, and he doesn’t know if the boy will make it. If he will lose Connor as well. He knows he won’t be able to live through that. If Connor dies, too…

Connor’s voice is less human and more static right now. “And please—don’t kill yourself. You have to live, for me if you can’t do it for yourself. Please live, dad…” Hank almost drops the tools in his hands—he holds onto them at the last second. He looks at Connor, and realizes that the android is smiling. Smiling peacefully, as if he’s prepared to die. His eyelids are flickering, and his LED is flashing yellow…

No. No. Hank quickly attaches the last few wires and pulls back. He should’ve gotten it right. The wires should be attached right, yet Connor isn’t moving. He throws the tools aside. “Connor?” he whispers, grabbing the android’s shoulders.

No movement. His heart drops.

“Connor? Son? Are you there? I’ve fixed you up, come on son, come back to me. Come on.” He slaps his intact cheek lightly, yet Connor’s head just falls to the side. No. Fuck no. This isn’t happening. Not again.

Hank can’t push back his tears anymore. “Connor, please. Don’t you leave me. Don’t you fucking leave me, okay? You said I could live for you. You should live for me. Come on.” He takes Connor’s face in his hands and searches for a sign of life. “Come on, please. Please.” His vision is blurry with tears and he’s close to sobbing. He’s so close to giving up. Connor isn’t waking up. They’re too late. He’s too late.

He only barely notices Connor’s LED flickering on, but he does notice his eyes blinking open. His heart jumps with hope. “Connor?” He’s almost afraid to talk, afraid that this is only a dream. But Connor’s eyes remain open, and they focus on him. They’re not blank anymore, they’re filled with so many emotions that it looks…human. Connor looks so, so human right now, even with his wires exposed.

“You saved me, Hank,” he whispers. Hank chokes out a laugh. He wants to say something, but there are no words. So instead he pulls Connor into a bone-crushing hug and he cries. For the first time in two years he cries. Sure, when Cole first died he cried, a lot, but after a while he just started feeling numb. He started to…not care. So the crying stopped as well.

But now, with Connor, he’s feeling again and he can’t stop himself. He hasn’t failed Connor. The android is back, and he is alive. They are both alive.


	4. human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> sorry this took me too long to post. i was out of country and things were a bit crazy for a while. i only got back, like, two days ago and just then had the time to write this. again, i'm very sorry!
> 
> also, just an fyi. my school starts in two days, and i'll be applying to colleges for the next few months so i'll be pretty busy. i don't know how frequently i'll be able to write, and i'll try to post something at least once a week, but i'm just letting you know i won't be able to. but don't worry, i won't ever stop writing ;)
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy this!

Hank only finds the strength to stand up about five minutes later, and even then his legs are shaking. He leans on Connor for support—which is ironic, considering the android is the hurt one. Yet despite the fact that Connor is covered with blue blood, his chest is mangled, and he looks like he belongs in a trash, he is still the stronger one.

It is while they make their way out of the building that Connor explains the real reason Amanda was working on him. Apparently, Connor was designed to be an android detective—not one of those helper android officers, which is just a fancier way of explaining the menial work they do, but a full-blown detective. And to make Connor as efficient as possible, Cyberlife programmed him with a whole lot of features that helped him identify, respond to, and imitate certain human emotions. ( _Maybe that’s why he always looked so human to me, even in the beginning_ , Hank can’t help thinking after that confession.)

Apparently, none of the brightest minds of Cyberlife _ever_ considered the possibility that Connor might develop actual emotions as a result of all his fancy features. Fucking stupid of them, Hank thinks, but he is as non-scientific as it gets, so what does he know? (Though he does know a bit about emotions—he’s a homicide detective, after all.)

They also apparently didn’t realize it isn’t easy to just get rid of emotions by tweaking a couple of codes. First of all, if it was that easy, if feelings were the result of just a number of genes or a few lines of code, then a lot of people would form lines in front of hospitals to get rid of them and deviancy wouldn’t be a problem at all. But it’s more complicated than that. You can’t just get rid of them by flicking a switch.

_Anyway,_ when Cyberlife realized Connor was “defective”—and that was in _heavy quotes_ as Hank’s ideas of defects were much different than Cyberlife’s—and they weren’t going to fix him, they just handed him to Amanda as some sort of a servant. Amanda technically did continue working on Connor, trying to fix him up, but according to Connor Cyberlife had already been working on a more advanced model when this android revolution thing blew up.

Fucking revolting, if you ask Hank. Cyberlife handing Connor to a damn _abuser_ and not caring about it at all just because he’s an _android._ Honestly, Hank just wants to go up to the CEO’s office and give them a piece of his mind as they’re in the Cyberlife building, but he knows he needs to get Connor out of here as soon as possible. Cyberlife…wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them if they were discovered.

“You always knew I was a deviant, didn’t you? Even before the android revolution?” Connor’s voice interrupts Hank’s thoughts as they make their way back outside through the Cyberlife building. Hank looks up at the android and sighs.

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t have necessarily called it deviancy, but I knew your feelings were real. Nobody can act that fucking well, Connor.”

“But…you didn’t hate me for it?” Connor’s voice is so thin that it breaks Hank’s heart. Shit, sometimes Hank forgets just how much the boy has been through—how much abuse he’s endured in Amanda’s hands, and maybe even before in this very building. He’s been indoctrinated that deviancy is bad. No wonder he never fought back against Amanda—he probably believed he deserved all that shit.

Hank makes it his personal mission, right then and there, to show Connor how wrong that is.

“Well, hating you for something you couldn’t control would be fucking cruel, wouldn’t it?” Hank says with a shrug and offers Connor a smile. “I’m not Cyberlife, kid. I ain’t blaming you for fucking _feeling._ I thought me patching you up a million times would be enough of an indication of that.” He glances at Connor, and finally, the corners of the boy’s lips tip up. It isn’t a full-blown grin, but it is still something.

Connor opens the door at the end of the hall for Hank and allows him to pass through before he follows. Hank turns around—and comes to a complete stop. _Fuck._ They are definitely…not outside.

They are at a storage. A fucking _storage_ for androids, with hundreds of them filling the space, lined up perfectly like some sort of an army. Even an army wouldn’t be as organized as…this.

He looks at Connor. The non-fazed look on the android’s face suggests that he knew very well he wasn’t leading Hank outside. He was leading them…here.

Hank…doesn’t even want to know why.

“This is the storage,” Connor explains quietly, almost awkwardly. Hank arches his brow. Yeah, he definitely noticed that.

“I can see _that_. But I don’t remember going through a fucking army of androids when we came here.” He glances at Connor, and can’t help noticing that the android looked… _paler._ Technically, androids aren’t capable of blushing in the ways human do, but they can slightly alter their skin color, and Hank has noticed Connor do that more and more frequently in the last couple of weeks. It makes the android seem…more human.

“The police are preparing to attack Markus’s demonstration in front of the android camps,” Connor explains. Well, it isn’t much of an explanation yet, but Hank can almost see where Connor is going. (He also thinks how fucking _horrible_ humans can be, fighting against people who just want to be free.) “He needs more people…”

“And you have a fucking army of them,” Hank finishes Connor’s words. Connor nods, stepping in front of one of the androids. The android doesn’t even react. _This is fucking creepy,_ Hank thinks, but he keeps it to himself. He watches as Connor frowns and grabs the android’s arm. He looks…unsure. Hank steps forward. “What’re you doing?” He notices that Connor’s LED is yellow and flashing. It flickers to red briefly with Hank’s question.

“I’m trying…” he starts, but he doesn’t seem to have the words to explain. He looks up at the android’s eyes. “Wake up,” he whispers, his voice shaky. Hank arches his brow. _Wake up?_ Yeah, sure, why not, of course that would be the thing that brings the deviancy out of these androids—

He comes to a stop when the android starts blinking. The android turns to Connor, his LED flashing red, and then he looks down to his hand. Hank just watches, speechless. He knows, instinctively, what Connor did. He…deviated the android. A virus, an error, a malfunction, whatever the fuck deviancy is, it is almost as if he uploaded it to the android. Connor steps back, surprised as well, and yet what’s done is done. The android turns to the front and presses his hand against the other android.

It’s like a ripple effect. It spreads from one android to another, it spreads around the room, faster and faster. Every android comes to life, their LEDs blinking, their muscles—or metal or what the fuck ever—loosening. Hank really doesn’t have the words to explain it. It is as if the room just came to life—literally and figuratively.

He turns to Connor, a grin on his face. “Well, Connor,” he says, earning the attention of the obviously shocked android. “Looks like you got an army in your hands.”

* * *

There are a lot of things Hank isn’t proud of. He isn’t proud of his drinking habits. He isn’t proud of his carelessness about his work. He isn’t proud of how he’s wasted away three years in pure grief and darkness.

What he _is_ proud of is that he’s taken care of Connor when the android needed it the most. That he managed to overlook his hatred for androids to be there for Connor, to help him and support him. He’s proud of Connor as well, for staying true to himself even after the horrible abuse he’d endured, for _refusing_ to hurt Amanda even though it would totally be deserved, for… Honestly, for giving Hank a reason to live.

Fuck, he remembers just months ago how he spent each night drinking himself to sleep. How he didn’t care about work—didn’t even care about himself. All of that is gone now. Sure, the pain of Cole’s death is still there. Hank doesn’t think it will ever go away. But at least he’s not paralyzed by it anymore. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s been drunk—he had some alcohol here and there, but never to the point of stupor. He’s actually been sober for longer than he’s ever been for years.

It’s all thanks to Connor. Fucking android, turning his life upside down in the best way possible—and then recruiting a fucking army of androids to turn the world upside down. Hank can’t believe it was just yesterday that he watched the boy on TV, leading the androids from the Cyberlife HQ to Markus’s demonstration, turning the tide of the android war. Thanks to him, the androids won, and Markus—the android leader—is said to meet with the president sooner rather than later.

It is _his boy_ that did all that. Connor, who started out as only a poor image of a human, and then turned into one better than most people on earth. Yes, his blood may be blue, but he’s no less human to Hank than anyone else is. Shit, he and the kid have been through too much for that.

(He even _killed_ Amanda, for fuck’s sake—not that he regrets that. It was, technically, in self-defense, and Amanda had been abusing Connor for god only knew how long. Though he _did_ burn down Amanda’s house just after he came back from the Cyberlife Tower, just to be sure the crime can’t be traced back to him. Androids may have won, but they don’t have their rights yet, so Amanda’s death is legally a murder.)

However, the next day, Hank doesn’t expect to see Connor at all. He thinks the android would like to spend more time with his people. He imagines they must’ve welcomed him—after the stunt he’s pulled, at least. He is where he belongs now. He hopes that Connor will contact him eventually, but he isn’t too optimistic.

That’s why it’s a shock when there’s a knock on his door early in the morning. He frowns and lifts himself up from the couch. It can’t be Connor, right?

But when he looks through the peephole, it’s Connor’s shy smile that he sees on the other side. He quickly opens the door. “Connor?”

Connor’s smile turns into a grin. “Hello, Hank.” He doesn’t need to say more. Hank can read the happiness in his eyes, the pride at what he’s done. And fuck the android deserves it. After everything, he deserves the world.

Hank pulls him into a hug. Connor immediately returns it, wrapping his arms around Hank and burying his face into the man’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, son,” he whispers. Connor doesn’t say anything, but—

Is that wetness Hank feels on his shoulder? He tries to pull back, but Connor doesn’t let him. “Connor?” he whispers, but the boy just shakes his head.

_Fuck,_ Hank thinks. It’s not the first time he’s seen Connor cry, but it certainly is the first time he’s sobbing like this and Hank…doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been good at dealing with emotional shit like this. Hell, he’s never been good at dealing with _his own_ emotions. But now, there’s a pretty shaken up kid in his arms—and Connor is practically a kid, since he’s been created just that summer and has had feelings for like a month or two at best—who is looking to him for comfort, and fuck he can’t back up now. He moves his hand up Connor’s back and steadies him. “Shh, I’m here for you, kid. I’m here.” He somehow manages to guide Connor’s couch without tripping both of them up, and finally the android loosens up his grip a little bit—at least enough to give Hank some room. He pulls back to look at Connor’s face. The boy’s eyes are cast down as he sniffs.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, a crack in his voice. Hank frowns. What the fuck is he apologizing for? “I didn’t mean to break down on you like that.”

“Connor.” Hank can’t help rolling his eyes. Fuck, Connor can be just so…innocent sometimes. “You are human. You deserve to break down.”

“But I—“

“Yes, you are,” Hank cuts him quickly. He’s had enough about Connor’s self-deprecating bullshit. “Don’t give me that fucking deer-in-headlights look. Yeah, _that._ See, I _know_ you, Connor. And you ain’t a machine.” He stops for a second when he sees the fear in the android’s eyes. It clicks for him then. Fucking Amanda. Of course. “I don’t care what Amanda made you believe.”

Connor searches Hank’s eyes, as if he wants to know whether the man is being truthful—fucking unnecessary, Hank thinks, but whatever comforts the boy. Tears fill Connor’s eyes. He nods. “Thank you,” he whispers. Hank just offers him a small smile.

“No problem, son.”

“Not just for this,” Connor continues. “For saving my life and taking care of me. I would’ve died without you, da—“ He cuts himself off, yet not fast enough that Hank feels his heart stop. He quickly corrects himself. “Hank.”

Suddenly, Hank is transported back three years, looking in the eyes of another kid, another one with blue eyes, eyes that are filled with awe and love. _Thank you, dad,_ the boy is saying, pointing at the bandage around his leg. _You’re a hero._

It’s not the same thing, Hank knows, but he can’t help comparing. But somehow…it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. The pain is still there, but there isn’t this…overbearing emptiness in him anymore. He doesn’t feel like his life is meaningless anymore. This… This android in front of him—the irony there doesn’t escape him—taught him how to live again, showed him he can live again. He gave Hank a purpose, and it’s spelled out in his words. _I would’ve died without you._ Hank lived, at first to keep Connor alive as well, which may not be a good reason to live, but it did bring him here. To this point, when he actually _wants_ to live, when he sees a potential in life he hasn’t seen before.

He grins, pulls Connor closer and tousles his hair. He doesn’t address the android’s slip of words, but he hopes his actions are enough to show that.

“Now how about we get a bed ready for you,” he changes the subject, then stops. “I mean, I don’t know if you sleep or anything like that, but it seems kinda appropriate… You have that deer-in-headlights look again.” Connor blinks. It…doesn’t really help him.

“I am…staying here?” he asks. The shock in his voice makes Hank almost chuckle.

“If you don’t have anywhere else to stay. Which I’m assuming you don’t.”

“But… I wouldn’t want to be a burden—“

“Stop right there.” Hank moves his hand to Connor’s back. “You’re _not a burden,_ got it? I want you here. I wouldn’t be offering you a room…or a couch, I mean…if I didn’t. Okay?” Connor doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just looking at Hank, but then he smiles. A small smile, but it’s something other than all the crying.

“Okay,” he whispers. Hank smiles as well.

Maybe…just maybe, he thinks, everything will be all right.


End file.
